


#soulmateday

by parrishsrubberplant (genus_species)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: #soulmate day, Alexei and Kent are rookies together, M/M, Soulmates, i don't make the rules, is the day before Valentine's Day, long-distance pining enabled by social media
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 01:39:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13066455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genus_species/pseuds/parrishsrubberplant
Summary: Alexei thinks the whole second week of February should be cancelled. Between Soulmate Day and Valentine’s Day, there’s just too much love and companionship to go around.Alexei Ivanovich Maskov and Kent Parson are rookies together. Then Alexei gets traded.





	#soulmateday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [StilesSmiles](https://archiveofourown.org/users/StilesSmiles/gifts).



@kvparson90. “What’s it called when a group of rookies get together? A rookie-ry? #puns.” Twitter. 20 October 2009, 10:39 pm.

When Alexei Ivanovich Mashkov first saw Kent Parson, he thought: this man looks like a doll. The kind with a tall kokoshnik and long red robes. The kind a girl makes a story about: and then Brave Ivan went into the woods and faces the terrible bear.

He hasn’t had much cause to change his opinion.

Kent is curled into himself on the end of the couch. One hand holds a beer, the other traces out patterns on his knee. Kent’s fingers circle the curve of his kneecap, again and again and again. Alexei watches him.

They’re supposed to be watching HGTV, taking a break from watching tape. Kent cracks halfway through the second episode. “That house is ugly. They’re installing the showerhead wrong.” He takes out his laptop. “Let’s watch the Bruins.”

Morky snorts and stuffs the remote under his massive thigh. “Chill _ax_ , Parser.”

Kent glares at him.

Alexei holds up his hands. “What is chill axe? Is axe made of chill? Cut icicles?” He knows from the way Morky starts laughing that he’s mangled the pronunciation of at least one of the words. English is a demon language designed by the devil. Alexei mutters this under his breath in Russian. It doesn’t make him feel much better, because Morky is still laughing.

Kent starts laughing too. “That took me too long,” he says. 

“Huh?” Alexei asks.

“Chill axe,” Kent says, still laughing. It’s a different sort of laugh than Morky’s. Alexei smiles instead of tensing. “Chill axe,” Kent repeats and mimes swinging a hatchet over Morky’s head.

Morky ducks. Kent uses the opportunity to steal the remote and shut off the home repair show.

“Come on,” Morky groans. “Let me relax.”

Kent shrugs at him. “You can go relax. Alyosha and I are going to study the Bruins.”

Morky slumps back against the couch. “Fine, mom, I’ll do my homework. Even though it’s not like homework because coaching staff specifically told us not to do this.”

“Thank you,” Kent says sarcastically. He fiddles with the laptop, connecting it to the TV. His phone buzzes. He’s momentarily distracted, tapping a tweet and laughing to himself. “Rookie-ry. Ha.” 

Kent puts the phone down and stares at the blunt end of a cable. “What is this witchcraft?”

Morky elbows him out of the way and connects the laptop to the TV with a few swift gestures.

“Wait, stop,” Kent says. “Tell me how you did that again.”

Morky explains. Kent reaches out to unconnect all the cables so he can reconnect them again. “Jesus, you’re like a toddler.”

“Mom, I wanna do it,” Kent whines under his breath, but he goes back to the couch and lets Morky start the video.

Morky launches himself off the floor and lands between them. Kent hooks his chin over Morky’s shoulder and points. “Look,” he says.

Alexei leans forward. He looks.

* * *

@kvparson90: “Purrs purrs. #catmodel.” Twitter. 30 April 2011, 3:23 pm.

Alexei didn’t expect to be traded. He had a good season with the Aces, played decently. Didn’t get sent down. Still, when his agent calls him, he feels: something. Probably pain. It has been a long season and he can’t tell anymore what hurts and what’s normal.

“Where?” he asks.

“Providence,” Jesse says.

“Where is that?” Alexei knows that it’s East Coast, but he can’t remember suddenly whether the Falconers are closer to the Bruins or the Capitals.

“Rhode Island,” Jesse says. “Greater Boston area.”

Winter, Alexei realizes with rising delight. Snow.

Kent is the first person he tells. He does it quickly, like ripping off a bandage. “I’m traded.”

Kent looks away. He knew already, Alexei realizes. He knew already, that’s why they put an “A” on him, and why they’ll put a “C” eventually. Because Kent Parson plays great hockey and he knows things.

“Keep in touch,” Kent says.

Alexei hugs him. “You too.” Kent is so small, his forehead bumping Alexei’s chin. He’s small and fast and lethal and...Alexei is not looking forward to playing against him. 

Kent holds him so tightly Alexei feels his ribs compress. “You have to get Twitter,” Kent says. “So I--so we can--” he doesn’t finish the sentence. 

Kent lets him go.

“Already have,” Alexei informs him.

“Follow me,” Kent demands.

Alexei laughs at him. “Already do.” He doesn’t tell Kent he would follow him more places than just Twitter.

Then Instagram debuts and becomes the center of Kent’s virtual social life. He’s a good photographer. He has an eye for opportunities and angles--that’s probably a hockey thing. But he also has a wonderful eye for light. Even Kent’s unfiltered selfies show his preoccupation with the intersection of light and shadow.

It doesn’t help that Kent is good-looking and he knows it. Alexei can’t help seeing the Buzzfeed article that gets passed around hockey Twitter--Kent Parson’s selfies and the hilarious thirst tweets they generate.

Alexei stares at his phone screen in delight. Kent has a kitten. Or Kent has a dust bunny that crawled out from under his bed and started walking around his apartment. But Alexei thinks it’s probably just a gray kitten.

He watches the video again. The tiny kitten kneads her paws against Kent’s belly. The very end of the video is Kent grumbling “Ow!” at the prickle of her claws. It makes something unbearably warm well up in Alexei’s belly.

He texts Kent without thinking about it: Beautiful cat.

He doesn’t get a response for days.

* * *

@kvparson90: “It’s good to celebrate the holiday with friends. #soulmateday #friendsdoitbetter.” Instagram. 13 February 2014, 9:45 am.

Alexei thinks the whole second week of February should be cancelled. Between Soulmate Day and Valentine’s Day, there’s just too much love and companionship to go around. It makes him feel even worse about sitting alone on his house. When he turns on the TV, it’s a home renovation show.

He misses Kent. They haven’t been teammates for three years. Kent’s “A” has been replaced by a “C” (called it, Alexei thinks) and it looks like he’s going to the playoffs. Again.

Alexei is not going to the playoffs. Again.

At least he has the winter: six inches of snow fell overnight and four more are forecasted before the storm ends.

He looks at Kent’s post again. Kent picked a generic background, rather than a photo of friends. Alexei tries not to think about what that might mean. 

He scrolls through his feed. Too many #soulmateday posts. Even @nhl has gotten in on the act: a college of #hockeysoulmates. 

Alexei closes the app. He throws his phone face down on the couch, then scrambles to grab it before it bounces onto the floor. He puts on sweatpants and takes himself out for a run. 

Stupid, he thinks. You’re going to slip and fall and die. It doesn’t feel stupid. After three miles he feels better, even though snow crusts the top of his running shoes and he can no longer quite feel his thumbs.

Soulmate Day ends. Valentine’s Day ends. Alexei keeps playing hockey.

Alexei goes on a pleasant date with the backup goalie’s cousin. Karina is studying Russian Literature at Brown and there’s something subtly wrong about the way she pronounces the letter “k.”

He really wants to like her.

Somehow, they start talking about social media. “It just started to be a thing when I was leaving high school,” Karina says. “Some people I know have it.”

“Most players do,” Alexei says.

“Why?” She leans forward, curious.

“See friends,” Alexei says. “Friends I played with, growing up--some are in NHL, but some are home. Not playing hockey anymore. I like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram. I can still see them.”

“Still be a part of their lives,” Karina says.

She gets it, or seems to. Alexei really wants to like her. Still, by the end of the date he’s showing her pictures of Kit on his phone. “Kit is Kent’s cat,” Alexei says.

“Who is Kent?” 

Alexei hesitates. “Teammate,” he says. “Old teammate, from Aces.” When she looks confused, he says, “Las Vegas.”

Karina coos over Kit. Then she grins at Alexei. “He’s hot,” she says. “Your friend.”

“Yes,” Alexei says. He may be lonely but he isn’t blind. And maybe it’s all right that there’s no second date with Karina. Could he really see himself with someone who doesn’t know who the Las Vegas Aces are?

No, he could not. He’s allowed to have limits.

* * *

@kvparson90: “This beautiful friend got a Gordie Howe hat trick today. #soulmateday” Instagram. 14 February 2016, 1:13 am.

Alexei is not going to be jealous of Jeffrey “Swoops” Troy. He isn’t.

It’s just that--last year on Soulmate Day, Kent’s post was a generic background and an impersonal message. This year, his post is a collage from the Aces game and Swoops is in every single photo. There’s even one with Kit perched on his shoulder.

Alexei hasn’t seen Kit in almost a year, not since the last time the Falconers played the Aces. Kit has probably forgotten him.

He scrolls miserably through his feed. Soulmates, soulmates.

He texts Jack Zimmermann. “I hate this holiday.”

Three dots appear, linger, vanish, and appear again. “Want to come over?” 

“Okay,” Alexei says. Even being around Jack and boyfriend--and feeling out of place--is better than sitting at home alone being morose.

But Bitty isn’t there. “Where’s your boo?” Alexei asks.

Jack’s disapproving face is a thing of beauty. “What now?”

“Itty Bitty,” Alexei says cheerfully. “Your boo. He’s not here?”

Jack shakes his head. “He has a paper. I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“Valentine’s Day,” Alexei says.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing,” Jack says.

“Am always alone,” Alexei says mournfully. Then he breaks up laughing at himself. “Is fine, I’m happy.”

Jack kicks him gently. “It would be okay,” he says. “If you weren’t happy.”

Alexei shrugs. 

“Want to watch Galavant?” Jack says. “Shits--you met him, back in November, the guy with the moustache--” Alexei nods, he remembers Shitty and his dead lip ferret very vividly “--says it’s really funny.”

It is funny. Laughing with Jack over a dumb TV show helps. Zimmboni is a good TV buddy because he doesn’t complain that Alexei will only watch shows with the captions on. Also, he has lots of fuzzy blankets and tries to drape them over Alexei while Alexei pretends not to notice.

Then Alexei goes home and he’s alone again. “Send me a picture of Kit,” he texts Kent.

He isn’t surprised when Kent doesn’t reply.

Three days later, Kent calls him. 

“Hello?” Alexei says. They don’t talk on the phone. They never talk on the phone. At this point, his entire friendship with Kent is Instagram comments and retweets.

Kent is silent.

“You call me,” Alexei reminds him.

“Can you switch to FaceTime?” Kent says.

“Sure.” Alexei hits the button. The first thing he sees is the enormous bag of ice on Kent’s knee. Alexei hisses through his teeth. “What happen?”

“Sprain, they think,” Kent says.

Alexei winces in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

“Should have kept my head up,” Kent says. “I thought--I’m so much faster than everyone--I thought--and he just came out of nowhere.”

“Tell me who,” Alexei says. “Tell me who and I’ll hurt him for you.” He is dead serious.

Kent laughs. The camera wobbles. “Oh, hey,” Kent says. His voice is suddenly much softer. “Here she is.” He makes kissy noises. “Here, princess. Come say hi to Alyosha.” The view is a gray blur as Kit headbutts the screen.

“She remember me!” Alexei says.

“Of course she does,” Kent says. 

“But she doesn’t even know me.”

“Well,” Kent says. “Whose fault is that? You had to get traded.” He says it teasingly, but his eyes aren’t laughing. “How are the Falconers?”

“Good,” Alexei says. “Kind team. Funny, you know? But not mean.” He won’t say anything about their hockey--not to Kent, not during the season--but Alexei is happy to talk about the kind of people his teammates are.

Kent nods. 

“Why you call me?” Alexei asks.

Kent shrugs. “Missed you,” he says. He lifts his hand and strokes Kit’s head. She settles against his good leg, purring. She sounds like a pepper grinder with rocks in it. 

“You have Swoops,” Alexei points out. “You have team.”

“And I can’t be friends with you too?”

“You can,” Alexei says. “You can always be friends with me.”

* * *

@kvparson90 @nhl via Repost app: “Reunited. #soulmates #soulmateday” Instagram. 14 February 2017, 12:58 am.

Later, it’s not Alexei’s favorite picture of them. Kent, post-crash into Snowy, and Alexei picking him up by the collar out of the scrum and shaking him. Kent looks like a kitten dangling from its mother’s mouth.

Kent waits outside the visitor’s locker room. He steps forward when he sees Alexei. “Hey.” Alexei looks up. “Snowy okay?”

“Fine,” Alexei says.

“And you?”

“Fine,” Alexei says. “Is hockey.” He shrugs.

There are better pictures by far, but those are private: Kit asleep on Alexei’s chest. Kent and Alexei jogging together at sunrise on a beach. 

Still, he likes the collage that kent posts. #soulmates, the caption says. Alexei smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy holidays! I hope you enjoy!


End file.
